Action
by the ramblin rose
Summary: Caryl, short scene. S2, Ep3 "Save the Last One". Daryl was a man of action because it was action that got things done.


**AN: This is in a series of "shorts" that I'm doing for entertainment value as I rewatch some episodes. Some of them are interpretations/rewrites of scenes that are in each episode. Some are scenes that never happened but could have in "imagination land". They aren't meant to be taken seriously and they aren't meant to be mind-blowing fic. They're just for entertainment value and allowing me to stretch my proverbial writing muscles. If you find any enjoyment in them at all, then I'm glad. If you don't, I apologize for wasting your time. They're "shorts" or "drabbles" or whatever you want to call them so I'm not worrying with how long they are. Some will be shorter, some will be longer.**

 **I own nothing from the Walking Dead.**

 **I hope that you enjoy! Let me know what you think!**

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There wasn't going to be any sleep tonight. Not for any of them, as far as Daryl could tell. The idea was that Andrea, Dale, and Daryl would take turns keeping watch. They'd decided, outside of her company, that Carol shouldn't keep watch. She was too distracted, and understandably so, to expect her to keep her mind focused on the boring and monotonous task of watching the landscape around her in search of things that go bump in the night. The idea was a fine one, too, but there was one flaw to it. None of them that were supposed to be sleeping were actually doing anything of the sort.

Andrea was trying to teach herself to disassemble and reassemble her gun for cleaning and clearing jams. It was a useful skill, and it was good that she was eager enough to learn that she was willing to teach herself if no one would sit down and carefully walk her through everything, but it was a fairly loud activity in the middle of the night and particularly so when it was practically happening over your head.

In addition to Andrea's nocturnal clinking and knocking, there was the sound of Carol crying in the bedroom. When Daryl leaned up, he could see her from his current location. She was just lying there, remaining in the sleeping position that they'd told her was best for her, and she was steadily weeping. She was mourning her daughter. She was lamenting that night had come and had ended their efforts to find Sophia for the day. With every tear that fell, a little more of her hope that they'd find the girl—hope that Daryl kept trying to give back to her in small bursts of reassurance—was leaking out of her.

Hoping and praying for the girl's return was something but, as Daryl had told them all earlier in the woods, it simply wasn't as effective as action. _Doing something_ was what got the job done.

Accepting that he simply wasn't going to get any sleep, and feeling antsy, himself, to find Sophia and put the whole thing behind them, Daryl sighed to himself and sat up. He looked around him and saw both women glance at him to try to discern what the reason might be for his stirring. Finally he got to his feet to gather the bare essentials that he'd need to somewhat safely venture out into the night.

"Where are you going?" Andrea asked, her voice breaking the silence as much as her puttering around with the gun had been doing for the last while.

"Going to look for Sophia," Daryl said. "Walk the highway. Can't take this waiting around."

In the bedroom, Carol's sobs stilled except for the sniffling sounds that couldn't be controlled by holding her breath to better hear the exchange. She leaned up in the bed and Daryl could see her looking at him even if he couldn't see her expression clearly enough to read what she was thinking.

Maybe he should say something to her. Maybe he should offer her a few more words of encouragement, but the words were doing no more for her than the hoping and praying that everyone seemed to be engaged in. They weren't doing anything to actually bring Sophia back and calm the wave of emotions that were causing the crying in the first place.

The best thing that he could do for Carol was exactly what he was doing—go outside and look for the girl.

Action was best, even if it came hand in hand with his own hopes and prayers that this might be the magic hour when he actually, and finally, put his hands on Sophia to bring her safely back to her mother.

Daryl didn't offer Carol words because he didn't have more of them to give to her. Instead, he simply started out of the R.V. to step out into the night and start his search up again. He was a man of action—and his action was the greatest thing that he could offer her.


End file.
